Afghan Sun
by breathing is over-rated
Summary: Sequel to Once a Soldier, probably best to read that one first.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Sequel to 'Once a Soldier' probably best to read that first. John and his squad are back in a done up base but something isn't right. It's up to John and Sherlock to find out what is going on and how they can get out of it.  
Warnings: swearing, violence, blood  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to BBC Sherlock and Arthur Conan Doyle

**AN-** This as been a long time coming, I know. Big thanks to Valashu for giving me a proverbial kick up the arse I needed to get this going again. The title is shoddy, I know, but I couldn't think of anything else. If anyone has a better one let me know and I may change it, and give credit for the new name.

**Afghan** Sun

* * *

1

John Watson rolled his shoulders as he stood watching the Afghan sunrise. It was at times like this when John realised what he missed most about the battlefield in those years spent in London, where the tall buildings and almost constant cloud cover made sunrises something which occurred once in a blue moon. The doctor's injured shoulder twinged, it had been hurting more recently. John put it down to the extra stress he'd been putting on it, after all, he'd never truly 'healed', no matter what the army chose to believe. Still, it wasn't bad enough to warrant him being invalided home again and John wasn't going to let anyone realise the problems he was experiencing, they weren't even problems really. Just a twinge.

* * *

After the whole kidnapping scandal, Captain Watson and his whole squad had been given two weeks off to recuperate. Sherlock had been manhandled to the hospital part way through the circle time, sadly before he showed his scars, because in trying to escape from showing said scars he walked into three doors consecutively, talked to a chair and then started deducing the relationship between the floor and his shoes. The detective, of course, had thrown the mother of all fits but John was more than a match for a stroppy man-child with suspected concussion. The concussion was confirmed at the hospital but it was mild and Sherlock was allowed to leave two days later, once they were sure nothing serious would come about because of it.

Now, the squadron was reaching the end of the two weeks, and preparing to move back out. The same location had been set up in the same village as before, though it now had heightened security due to some high up in the system. John and Sherlock both knew who was behind it but they weren't going to complain about it. As much as they didn't like the interference of a certain big brother, it definitely had its uses.

"All packed up and ready to go, Captain?" Private Simmons piqued. John smiled in greeting.  
"Yeh, everything set. What about you, Private?" He asked in return. The soldier nodded.  
"Sorted everything yesterday. Thought I'd spend my last day relaxing. That's if Holmes doesn't give another of his lessons." John had managed to convince Sherlock to start teaching Arabic to the squad, mainly basic reading and speaking so that conversation in the village would be easier. As soon as he'd come up with the idea, the captain felt that it would go badly so he was very surprised when they started getting results.

Most of the squadron could now partake in a simple conversation in Arabic and could read simple instructions on signs. Sherlock was a good teacher, albeit a ruthless one. He could tell instantly who wasn't trying and gave them a tongue lashing. John had walked in to see Private Stevenson holding back tears as Sherlock growled about his time being wasted. The captain tried to make a sharp exit but the detective clocked him.  
"Ah, John. I hardly think it fair that your squadron suffer me for hours on end while you escape scott free, even if you do have a small knowledge of the language." As Sherlock spoke, Stevenson saw his chance to bolt but a lightning fast hand grabbed his collar before he could escape.  
"I really have too much to be going on with, Sherlock." John answered with a false smile, backing out of the room.  
"Lies." Sherlock stated. "Take a seat, Watson. We have a lot to get through." With twenty one pairs of eyes trained on him, John knew he wasn't getting out of this one. With a sigh, he crumpled to the floor to sit with his legs loosely crossed, joining the others.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN- **As these are shorter chapters than my usual, I'm going to try and update this twice a week. That said, over the next week I don't know what my wi-fi is going to be like so bare with me.

B  
x

* * *

2

The village looked much the same as how they had left it. The warehouse had been completely bulldozed and replaced with a building of almost exactly the same dimensions but kitted out with state of the art security systems. The rest of the warehouse-like building was set out into six rooms in an open plan-style. A kitchen had been fully kitted out and a couple of plug sockets had been put in to charge phones and batteries for radio equipment. Two rooms were set up as bedrooms, though they would probably only use one. One was a bathroom with shower, bath, sink and toilet. All state of the art. The other rooms were set out to be the living space, where any missions would be planned, where they would eat and relax and where they could practise anything before going out and doing it for real.

After a few hours, everything had been set up, sleeping areas picked, and dibs had been called on who was making dinner. Private Webster stood in the kitchen, complaining that nothing had been put in a logical place as he opened every single cupboard and box to find the items he was looking for. In the end Nick, Carl and Jake got up to help him, mainly because that meant they wouldn't have to cook the next day. The rest of the squadron sat around idly waiting for the food to be brought though. John rolled his shoulder surreptitiously, trying to massage the bullet wound with his opposite hand. Suddenly, long fingers pushed his hand away and replaced it. The captain tried to move away but the hand clamped down harder.  
"Don't be stupid." A sultry voice huffed.

John hadn't received a massage since his physio ordered him to have one just over two years ago, he didn't really trust other people to touch the scar just in case they did something stupid. Sherlock, of course, was an exception. Well it wasn't as if the doctor really had a choice in this, he tried to relax back into the nimble fingers, difficult as it was.  
"Next time you have muscle troubles, tell me." The detective ordered as he massaged away the tension. John didn't answer him. "John." Sherlock said in a warning tone, clearly expecting some sort of promise.  
"I'm not going to do that, Sherlock. Really, I'm fine. There are more pressing issues to deal with." The captain replied. Sherlock scoffed.  
"Please, we're only here because big brother doesn't want me getting injured but at the same time knows that we won't willingly come home. I am ninety six percent certain that the entire area is completely under His control now so the chances of anything untoward happing is nigh on impossible. On that basis, what 'pressing issues' do you have to deal with?" John twisted round to stare at him, his jaw clenched as he curbed his anger at the Holmes's.  
"I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that." He growled. "Because if I get the slightest inkling that my specialist talents, which are the only reason which I am here, are not being used to their full potential then I will be very angry." The rest of the squad shuffled awkwardly. Sherlock's mask of indifference slipped for a millisecond but was restored long before any discernible emotion could show through.  
"I needed your specialist talents but you didn't stay for me."

* * *

**AN- **What's a little emotional blackmail between friends?  
Hopefully I'll post the next one in a few days.

B  
x


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- **Gosh, sorry this is so late. My wifi deserted me, this has been a long search for some internet I could use. To make up for it, I'm posting two chapters at once. Sorry, guys.

Enjoy!

B  
x

* * *

3

Sherlock was well known for low blows but John had never expected that one. When the food appeared, the four who had been making it were thrust into a completely silent room of soldiers staring in disbelief at Private Holmes and had no idea what the whole situation was about. John cleared his throat and turned to Carl.  
"Ah, dinner. Excellent. Well everyone grab a plate and get what you want." He said, trying his best to ignore the man behind him.  
"I'm not hungry." Sherlock stated, as he hoisted himself to his feet and stormed off. Once he was gone, John sighed, bringing a hand to cover his eyes. He was well aware that the rest of the squadron still had their eyes focused on him.

The doctor ate quickly, dinner was probably good but his sense of taste had abandoned him. He pushed his plate away. Sherlock was just being a prick, pushing buttons. That's what he did, he saw weakness and exploited it. John sighed inwardly, knowing that he was only lying to himself. His flatmate was not a sociopath, no matter what people tried to say about him.  
"Uh… I'm going to talk to Sherlock. Some privacy would be nice." He said in a quiet voice. "I'll try to keep damage to the minimum." With that, he stood and limped out to the bedroom.

With blinds closed and no light on, John was greeted to lumps and bumps in the darkness with no ability to tell what was what.  
"Sherlock?" He called. No answer. The doctor took another two steps into the room. "Sherlock?" He repeated. As his eyes adjusted, the captain was able to make out more detail of the room, such as the detective-shaped sleeping bag leaning against the wall.  
"I don't need your sympathy." The sleeping bag snarled as John approached.  
"Sherlock…" Why did things have to be so difficult?  
"I am well aware of my name, you do not need to repeat it." The disembodied voice snapped. John reached forward and removed the top of the sleeping bag from Sherlock's head.  
"I'm sorry I left." He said. The detective's eyes narrowed.  
"Do not lie to me, John Watson. I can tell a lie before you've even spoken."

"I'm not lying. I am sorry I left, but I'm not sorry I came here. They need me Sherlock, now I know you're going to say that you need me too but think about the people who die here because they don't have enough medics." The doctor explained. Sherlock scoffed and John scowled. "Our squadron, how long do you think they would have survived without me?" He asked.  
"Hmm?" The detective answered, trying to sidestep the question. John gave him a look which said that it hadn't worked.  
"The soldiers age twenty five and younger would have a sixty percent chance of going home uninjured. The older about seventy three percent. Based on these assumptions, roughly seven would have gone home injured or dead. That they have survived relatively uninjured to this point in time is a statistical miracle." Sherlock replied.  
"Exactly. Now I've saved your arse more times than I can count but you can look after yourself. Some of these kids were pissing about with loaded guns for Christs sake!" John replied. The detective clenched his jaw.  
"I understand the reasons why, John. I always did." He stated. "I just wished you didn't." Sherlock took a steadying breath. "I have acted irrationally, for that I am sorry. I will not hold it against you again."

* * *

**AN- **Wow, Sherlock's admitted he was wrong. That almost never happens, and when it does you can be sure that it is said to John.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN- **Now our boys have made up, what will they do next? There's only one way to find out...

* * *

4

When John and Sherlock came back into the main area side by side, the squadron was a little more than shocked, but they didn't mention anything as the two men sat down as though nothing had happened.

"Right, I am going to have a conversation with the general." The captain stated, patting Sherlock on the shoulder as he stood up. His squad raised eyebrows but didn't ask him why, they could ask Sherlock once their captain was out of earshot.  
"Sherlock, come with me."The detective stood fluidly. John nodded to himself then walked off in the direction of the bedroom for a little privacy.

* * *

Private Simmons leant back on his hands, what could possibly be so private that the rest of the squad wasn't allowed to know what was going on? When he asked the rest of the team, he was replied with shrugs and muttered 'I don't knows'.  
"I mean, why does Sherlock get to go and listen into his conversations with the general but we don't?" He pressed.  
"Well Sherlock is much smarter than us." Carl hummed. "And they've known each other a long time." The others were nodding in agreement, no one really wanted to find fault with their captain. He was a good man and he looked out for them.

* * *

"Why are we here, General?" He questioned into the computer. The face of the general showed surprise followed by closely guarded suspicion.  
"You're refilling your original post, Captain." He replied.  
"Yes but we aren't needed here, this is a small village and the only trouble we had, other than medical emergencies of the people in the village, was because of the equipment that we brought with us." John said. The general pursed his lips.  
"We need that outpost manned. It is a key access point for the army and we can't allow it to fall into enemy hands. I wouldn't expect a man of your stature to question your orders, Captain." He answered. John forced a tight smile.  
"Of course, general. We'll man this post then."  
"Good, dismissed."

"So you're thinking the same as me then." John hummed, seeing Sherlock's expression.  
"There is something that the general isn't telling us." The detective agreed at length. Captain Watson frowned.  
"But you don't think it's Mycroft related?" He questioned. Sherlock grimaced.  
"It doesn't add up." He replied. "No, I think there is something else going on."  
"Well, we will have to stay here for now, after all we can't question our orders. However; if any of my soldiers were to… come across information regarding why we are here, I would turn a blind eye to how they came to find it." John hummed lowly. Sherlock nodded once.  
"Let's go and share the news then."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN-** Looks like our heatwave has finally finished. This is good, it means my netbook isn't overheating every ten minutes. Anyway, here's the next chapter.  
Enjoy.

B  
x

* * *

"Listen up, team." John hollered as they walked back into the room. "We're going for a walk." The squad frowned.  
"A walk?" Private Brown asked. "Why?" The captain stared him down.  
"Shoes on and outside now." He ordered. Utterly confused but knowing better than to disobey a direct order, the squadron quickly scrabbled to put their shoes on and exited the building.

John kept them walking until the base was out of site but they had gone in the opposite direction to the village so when he stopped them, they were in the middle of nowhere, with nothing in any direction.  
"Right," John said. "Listen up, the general is keeping something from us. We don't know what but it's something which requires us to stay at this location, the base I mean. With everything new we don't know if it's been bugged so we're out here to discuss it." He paused to let that information sink in.  
"So there's someone keeping us here for reasons unknown and they could be watching and listening to everything thing we do." Martha huffed.  
"Pretty much." John answered. "So I'm going to give you all some rules while we're out here and away from prying eyes."

"One, don't talk about this. Don't mention it, if the bedroom is bugged then they already know that Sherlock and I are onto them but they don't know that everyone else does to. If you find anything, I want you to walk passed it as though you didn't notice, find Sherlock and tap him twice on the shoulder then say something about the place it was in. He'll deactivate the bugs." Sherlock nodded.  
"Two, we don't have a clue what this whole thing is about and because of that, we are going to treat it as a hostile situation. If you see anything that strikes you as odd, you will tell me immediately. We will have four guards every night, on a five hour rota so two will guard for the first five hours and two for the second. No one will be exempt from this." John stated, looking around the group to make sure everyone was paying attention.  
"Three, don't go anywhere alone or without communication. I want everyone paired up now." The captain waited for people to pair themselves. The girls, Martha and Jenny, went together and the lads split into groups. Sherlock stood beside John, his choice of 'pair' was obvious. "Right then, if your partner goes missing then you tell me immediately. Even if it's only for a minute." There was a group nod of agreement. "We have got to be tight. Everything is run by everyone else, no one is kept out of the loop."  
"Lastly, four, and this is the important one. If anyone finds out anything about what is happening I want them to call for a walk. When a walk is called, everyone will stop whatever they are doing and come back to this place. We don't know what the army has in store for us and it could be dangerous."

Sherlock pulled ten small flip phones out of his pockets, how he'd managed to bring them all was a mystery.  
"These phones can't be tapped." He stated as he handed them out, one between each pair. The soldiers scoffed as they took hold of the old phones. "They have a tracking device which is activated on the screen in the phone breaking. To break the screen, press the middle of it."  
"How do you know these can't be tapped?" Simmons asked, opening and closing the flip phone.  
"Because I programmed them myself." He answered. "I have removed anything which can be used to triangulate calls. They run on a different frequency and all texts have an encoding programme. Only these phones will be able to take calls and texts from the others." The squadron looked at the old style phones with a new light. How so much could come from such crappy phones was unbelievable.  
"We've been out here long enough." John hummed. "Let's go."

* * *

**AN- **So many characters... Who wants the character files uploaded? If I get enough people wanting it, I'll put up the basics on each character.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN-** I've started putting together some character files to post so they should hopefully be up next week. So how is everyone feeling about this sequel then? I love to hearing from you all.

Enjoy  
B  
x

* * *

Back at the base, everyone set into a comfortable routine. They continued as normal, with a group of six going down into the village every day to keep good relations with the locals. The group ate at usual times and went to bed at the normal time. The only change from before was the introduction of night watches. The four on the night watch were given the morning to sleep, if they wanted it. For a couple of weeks, it was as though nothing was out of the ordinary. The longer the normality went on, the more the tension within John arose. He kept any tension hidden from his team and anyone who could be watching with a steely mask of indifference that he had learned from his flatmate.

* * *

Alistair Dalison and his partner, Kyle, had been on watch for the last part of the night so were sleeping it off in the bedroom. Private Dalison stretch languidly and checked the time. Just gone ten, he rubbed his eyes then stopped as his eyes caught a glimpse of something glinting on the back of the lampshade. Alistair pursed his lips and looked to Kyle beside him, sleeping soundly. He dragged a hand through his brown cropped hair as he pondered whether he should wake his partner before going to get Sherlock. Kyle had been shattered, he really needed sleep and if he was woken up now then he wouldn't get back to sleep again. Alistair slipped out of his sleeping bag and tiptoed out of the room. Sherlock was busy fiddling with some wires on the floor, no one had any idea what he was making but decided to leave him to it. Private Dalison tapped him twice on the shoulder.  
"I think there's something wrong with the lampshade in the bedroom." He said.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. No one had found a bug yet and the detective had decided that the army either didn't need to monitor them or they were doing it some other way. He nodded and placed the wires on the floor before lifting himself to his feet and walking out of the room. Alistair stayed in the social area, he didn't want to draw suspicion to whatever Sherlock was doing to remove the bug, if it was a bug. He could go back to Kyle once everything was sorted out. In the meantime, the soldier sat as close to the pile of wires as he could without sitting on top of it. He couldn't make head nor tail of what it was. No one had even asked Sherlock what he was doing as he dumped circuit boards and wires on the floor. They didn't question where he'd gotten solder, a soldering iron and an extension cable to link it to the mains supply. Other soldiers crept forward, trying to get a glimpse of the mess on the floor.  
"What is it?" Jenny asked, squinting a bit.  
"I've got no idea." Alistair replied.

* * *

As soon as he stepped into the room, Sherlock's eyes immediately turned to the lampshade hanging over Alistair's sleeping bag. He grabbed Samson, who was just waking up and forced him to let him kneel on his shoulders so he could reach on top of the shade. Once there, the detective inspected the small glinting object. It didn't look like a normal bug but had a small microphone and what could possibly be a tiny camera Sherlock carefully covered the front with duct tape then pulled a screwdriver out of his breast pocket and started unscrewing the back of the device.

* * *

John frowned as he noticed Alistair guarding a mess of wires which Sherlock had been messing with not ten minutes before. It wasn't like the detective to just leave an experiment without due need for it. One look at Alistair told him all he needed to know though. He nodded that he understood and went to find something to do, keeping a look out for anything else 'bug' like. If there was one, there were bound to be more.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN-** Hello everyone! I'm going to put the character files up in a day or so. I know the updating is a bit odd, I'm putting up chapters as and when I can. These short chapters are doing wonders to relieve writers block. As always, let me know what you think.

Enjoy  
B  
x

* * *

"I fancy a walk." Sherlock stated as he marched back into the room. He didn't wait for anyone to get ready as he opened the door and exited. The soldiers scrambled to get outside, pulling the remaining night watchers from their beds, half dressed. John did a head count to make sure that everyone had left then followed them himself, closing the door to the base behind him. As he walked down the path to their clearing, the captain allowed his feelings to show through. He hated spying, no matter who it was on. That the army felt the need to keep a tab on them was infuriating. John needed to find out what the hell was going on and he needed to find out fast.

* * *

Sherlock waited for everyone to arrive and get settled in the dirt before he started.  
"This was the device found in the bedroom." He announced, holding about the small camera. "It drew power from the mains supply but also had a small battery, so if we cut the wires it would still send out a signal. Because of this, I think we were supposed to find it. They just didn't expect us to be able to deactivate it entirely."  
"And you're sure than it can't transmit anything? Not even a tracker?" Martha asked. Sherlock smiled.  
"This is only the shell. I left all the electronics back at the base." He answered. "If there is a tracking device it won't have moved from the bedroom." He paused for a moment before continuing.  
"I think that we've haven't been looking in the right places for these bugs, if they are meant to be found then they will be hidden in plain sight. And just because a bug has been removed from a room, doesn't mean that there aren't more." He grimaced slightly. "Also, the bathroom is not exempt from this."  
"_What_?" Private Simmons shrieked two octaves higher than his usual voice.  
"What did you expect? The army wants to run a covert operation but won't bug a bathroom, where most exchanges occur?" John asked. "I said to treat this as a hostile situation, nothing is safe."

The rest of the squadron remained silent as they reeled in shock. It hadn't occurred to any of them that the bathroom would be bugged and now they were wondering why. It was so obvious.  
"Sherlock, how is the jamming device coming along?" John asked, suddenly realising what the pile of wires on the floor of the base was. Sherlock grinned.  
"Well done, Captain. It only took you three hours, a vast improvement on last time." He hummed approvingly. "It is almost complete, now that I have studied the device, I can set it to jam any signals from them."  
"But if there are different devices then they may not be jammed, we don't know. So it's still not safe." John added. Sherlock nodded.  
"So then what's the point?" Aaron asked. "If they can still spy on us with the jamming thing in effect then what's the point?"  
"It lessens what they see." John replied. "The more we can keep secret, the better. With each new device, if there are any different ones, we can add to Sherlock's jamming device which will mean they are less likely to find out something important."  
"What could they possibly find out about us that they don't already know?" Samson huffed. Sherlock grimaced.  
"A great many things."


	8. Character files

**AN- **Well, here they are. (In alphabetical order-mainly for my convenience). I may end up adding more to some of these as we go, if I do I'll but a note in the latest chapter.

* * *

**Andrews, Ronan **

**Age: **28  
**Height:**6'0''  
**Hair colour: **brunet  
**Partner: **Harry Brown  
**Additional info: **Very lanky but well toned. Definitely not the wide-eyed, six year old, wannabe soldier he used to be but he still has his army toys back home under his bed.

**Bradley, Ciaran**

**Age: **25  
**Height:** 5'7''  
**Hair colour: **Blond  
**Partner: **Aaron Fletcher  
**Additional info: **He has a keen eye but isn't very good at holding up to criticism, or aggression for that matter. Probably the easiest in the group to break.

**Brown, Harry**

**Age: **22  
**Height: **5'9''  
**Hair colour: **black  
**Partner: **Ronan Andrews  
**Additional info: **Has a strong jaw but not all that handsome of a face. He has a ragged scar up the back of his leg where he'd been mauled by a Pitbull terrier many years ago.

**Diver, Samson**

**Age: **30  
**Height: **5'11''  
**Hair colour: **Blond  
**Partner: **Mark Webster  
**Additional info: **Though he originally hated Sherlock, he's taken a shine to the man and now they are somewhat friends. He's sarcastic and cynical but is protective over his friends. He's hot-headed and tends to hold grudges.

**Dalison, Alistair**

**Age: **30  
**Height: **5'9''  
**Hair colour: **Brunet-chestnut  
**Partner: **Kyle Evans  
**Additional info: **Alistair is distantly related to Kyle, third cousins twice removed, so feels a sort of kinship with the man. They don't always see eye to eye but will immediately stop any quarrel should a third party (so they can give a united front).

**Evans, Kyle**

**Age: **35  
**Height: **5'10''  
**Hair colour: **black  
**Partner: **Alistair Dalison  
**Additional info: **He had originally trained to be a therapist and spent two years as an occupational therapist but joined the army (aged 25) when he grew restless. He still asserts that it was the best decision he's ever made.

**Fletcher, Aaron**

**Age:** 32  
**Height: **5'7''  
**Hair colour: **brown  
**Partner: **Ciaran Bradley  
**Additional info: **Rather a sour character, he's quiet and keeps himself to himself. Ciaran is his only really friend in the squad but he doesn't make fights with the others.

**Hadfield, Mathew**

**Age: **17  
**Height: **5'5''  
**Hair colour: **fair**  
****Partner: **Martin Hartshorne  
**Additional info: **His mother is a high up officer in the navy and pulled a couple of strings to get him on a 'safer' tour of Afghanistan (behind his back, of course).

**Harriet, Martha**

**Age: **29  
**Height: **5'7''  
**Hair colour: **golden brown**  
****Partner: **Jennifer McMillan  
**Additional info: **One of two women in the squad, and the more boyish of the two. Martha's hair is shoulder length (shorter than Jennifers'). She's secretly afraid of gong prematurely grey (a inherent characteristic in her family genes).

**Hartshorne, Martin**

**Age:**39  
**Height: **6'2''  
**Hair colour: **ginger  
**Partner: **Mathew Hadfield  
**Additional info: **Doesn't speak much but at heart he's a joker. He smiles at most jokes, his favourite are puns bad enough to make you groan**. **Once he feels he's friends with someone, all thoughts on person boundaries are thrown out of the window. He thinks the best cure for feeling down is a bear hug and, as tall as he is, not many people can stop him.

**Holmes, Sherlock**

**Age: **38  
**Height: **6'1''  
**Hair colour: **black  
**Partner: **John Watson  
**Additional info: **Leapt into service after John left him a note to say he'd been reinstated by the army. A genius by trade and a sarcastic little shit by nature. He still hasn't completely forgiven John for leaving him (but he promised he wouldn't bring that incident up again).

**Latham, Steven**

**Age: **21  
**Height: **5'11''  
**Hair colour: **Chestnut**  
****Partner: **Jake Me  
**Additional info: **With his bulky, highly muscled body type, he often puts his brawn before his brains. Steven took a while to integrate into the group. Though there is only one year between him and his partner, they couldn't be more different.

**Me, Jake**

**Age: **20  
**Height: **5'6''  
**Hair colour:**blond  
**Partner: **Steven Latham  
**Additional info: **Originally Jake wanted to be an RAF pilot but he soon found that flying wasn't for him so he fell back onto his back up idea, to enlist as a soldier. His mother wasn't at all happy with this decision but she couldn't stop him from leaving. He tries to call her whenever possible.

**Martins, Charlie**

**Age: **21  
**Height: **5'3''  
**Hair colour: **black  
**Partner: **Johnson Smith  
**Additional info: **As the shortest man in the party, he's looked on as the baby however he is anything but. Charlie has a black belt in Ti Kwon Do, as well as dabbling in other martial arts.

**McMillan, Jennifer **

**Age: **20  
**Height: **5'3''  
**Hair colour: **dark brown  
**Partner: **Martha Harriet  
**Additional info: **She worked hard to be accepted as a soldier and now she is, she's going to make sure she stays there. Highly intelligent and very decisive, she is a force to be reckoned with (especially when behind the wheel- there are many rumours on how she managed to get her driving licence). She never really paid that much attention to sports so often gets confused between them.

**Nye, Jack**

**Age: **19  
**Height: **5'7''  
**Hair colour: **brown  
**Partner: **Nicolas Stanley  
**Additional info: **He had a boyish face, looking about fifteen, and is quick to smile but he does have a maturity most 19 year olds wouldn't even dream of (though he does let his childish side out some times).

**Simmons, Carl**

**Age: **28  
**Height: **5'6''  
**Hair colour: **blond  
**Partner: **Liam Stevenson**  
****Additional info: **A smart young man with a fairly poor temperament. He doesn't like blood, or injuries in general. Probably because of the horrendous amount of injuries he'd sustained as a child. Even the smell of antiseptic makes him woozy.

**Smith, Johnson**

**Age:**18  
**Height: **5'5''  
**Hair colour: **dirty blond  
**Partner: **Charlie Martins**  
****Additional info: **Cocky and a little arrogant by nature, Johnson is the first to find something fun to pass the time. Sherlock enjoys watching John tell him off, mainly because he see's a younger Watson not so inclined to medicine and thinks it's hilarious.

**Stanley, Nicolas**

**Age: **30  
**Height: **6'1''  
**Hair colour: **brown  
**Partner: **Jack Nye  
**Additional info: **has a fatherly personality, tries to keep an eye on the younger soldiers so they don't injure themselves or others. It was Nic who pulled John out of the base and to safety in Once a Soldier.

**Stevenson, Liam**

**Age: **32  
**Height: **5'10''  
**Hair colour: **blond  
**Partner: **Carl Simmons  
**Additional info: **Partnering up with Carl was the weirdest choice he'd made since joining the army. He doesn't get on all that well with Private Simmons and so most of their conversation dwindles down to sarcastic half-insults. Strangely, this seems to work.

**Watson, John H.**

**Age: **40**  
Height: **5'6''**  
Hair colour: **Blond**  
Partner:** Sherlock Holmes**  
Additional info: **Pulled back into service once the army realised he had recovered enough to resume duty. Trying hard to keep his men in line and to keep Sherlock out of trouble takes a lot of his time but you won't see him complaining. He is a good captain who has the safety of his men at heart, but that doesn't mean he won't partake in trying to one-up his flatmate from time to time.

**Webster, Mark**

**Age: **34  
**Height: **5'11''  
**Hair colour: **black  
**Partner: **Samson Diver  
**Additional info: **Mark is an easy-going man who rarely shouts. He has a wife back home and two daughters, though he rarely speaks about them as he thinks that his private life should be kept private. He can't bear the sight of crying children.


	9. Chapter 8

Back at the base, Sherlock finished off the hunk of wires and left it in a pile on the floor. He nodded surreptitiously to John then walked off. Though it didn't look like one, the pile of wires was capable of jamming signal from the bugs for up to fifty feet. The reason it still looked like a pile of junk was so that the army wouldn't realise what it was.  
"The patrol is ready to leave." Jennifer stated, jerking her thumb at the door. "Is there anything we need from town?" John shook his head.  
"No, we're good for now." He replied. "Be careful, Private McMillan, and contact us at the first sign of trouble." The dark haired woman nodded once then marched out of the door.

Once the six soldiers had departed, Captain Watson got down the business, making 'lunch' and by making 'lunch' he was actually scouting out the kitchen for more bugs. Private Simmons and his partner Private Stevenson were 'tidying the bedroom', Sherlock was 'cleaning the bathroom' and Nick and Jack were 'cleaning' the spare room. The rest of the group who weren't out in the village were undergoing training outside, and by that what they were actually doing was scouting round for anything on the outside of the building or in the nearby area. While they had been down in the clearing, Sherlock had given them a crash course in dismantling bugs, each soldier had a screwdriver set in the breast pocket just in case they came across anything. John didn't want the cables cutting but they could remove the camera and the speak from the mains and any battery supply then place it on the ground beneath were it was found originally so that it couldn't transmit any data and any tracking devices would show no change. It was a brilliant plan, one of John's better ones. Which meant something was bound to go wrong.

The doctor had a marker pen with him, every time someone found something they were to shout out a number. It didn't matter what the number was, each number shouted counted as one device found. When John heard a shout, he'd mark a tally on his hand. Simple.  
"One!" Came a shout from outside. _That was quick_ John thought as he gave himself a tally mark and set to opening the cupboards in search of anything that shouldn't be there.  
"Seven!" From the bedroom.  
"Six!"  
"Nine!"  
"Two!" John, half way in a lower cupboard, struggled to add another for marks to his hand.  
"One." The captain clenched his jaw, he hadn't expected this many to be found all in one go.

Just as he was withdrawing from the cupboard, John's eyes caught a glimpse of something shinny at the back. Knowing that he had no chance of removing this one sneakily, he reached straight for the small thing and pressed his thumb over the lens, crushing it. He then pulled a screwdriver from his pocket and undid the tiny screw in the compartment. The back fell off and a small speaker popped out. John frowned, wondering why there would be a speaker instead of a microphone. It didn't make sense. The doctor suddenly became aware that he couldn't hear the squadron. No one had called out anything in over four minutes. Slowly, he pulled himself out of the cupboard and straightened his back to peer over the counter.

Nothing. Captain Watson pulled his gun out of its holster and flicked off the safety. He couldn't even hear footsteps, never mind shouts. The doctor slowly stood up fully then started to creep towards the closest room, the bathroom. Sherlock wasn't there. John frowned, wondering if he'd heard Sherlock shout at all. He didn't think so but he couldn't be sure. Next the soldier crept towards the first bedroom. Empty. The second was empty as well. John stopped moving, straining his ears for any sound, anything to tell him what happened. Something was behind him. John felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, then his mouth was grabbed from behind.


	10. Chapter 9

**AN- **Well I feel as though I've been really productive today. Shocking, I know. Anyway, he's the next chapter. Going back to sixth form soon... I'm just crazy enough to decide that taking an entire A-level in one year is a good idea so that is what I'll be doing to fill my time before applying to uni next year.

Enjoy!  
B  
x

* * *

"Shut up and move." A familiar low voice growled in his eye. John complied instantly, allowing himself to be lead back into the first bedroom and out through the window to where the others were pressed against the outside wall, completely silent. The captain turned to face Sherlock as he climbed out the window behind him.  
"You have exactly two minutes to tell me what is going on." He hissed. The detective shook his head and pointed up to the roof.  
_They can still hear us. _He mouthed before signalling the team to follow him. John pulled his pistol up slightly, using his other hand to point upwards. Sherlock shook his head and mimed a much larger weapon.  
"How many?" John asked quietly.  
_Saw 8,_ Sherlock answered through sign language. _Maybe more_.

Sherlock edged his way around the building to the path which lead to the clearing. John heard a creek from above and sucked in closer to the side of the building.  
"We can't leave the group in the village." He whispered. Sherlock pulled out the phone.  
"When we get to the clearing we can call them." The taller male replied. John shook his head.  
"We need to split." He turned back to his team, pointed to Liam, Nick, Carl and Jack followed by the direction of the clearing, signalling for them to 'through the woods'. There wasn't a single tree anywhere near the clearing but the four understood what he meant. The Captain next signalled for Mark, Samson, Steven and Jake to go in the opposite direction and meet up back at the clearing once any tails were lost. John silently ordered the rest of the team to follow him and Sherlock into the village to pick up the group down there. Everyone would meet back at the clearing. Safety's off.

With that, John signalled the count of three and the teams burst from under the cover of the roof in all directions, running to get out of the range of weapons. John heard the shouts from the roof and ran faster, knowing that at least some of the possible attackers were following them. Once inside the village, John started barking orders.  
"In your pairs, split now. Find the patrol group then get out of here. We'll meet at the clearing." The group splinted, each diving down a different street leave John and Sherlock to continue to barrel down the main road.

* * *

"So how the hell did a group of assailants land on our roof without us noticing?" John asked, panting. "Half the team were outside, for Christ's sake!"  
"Once again you see but do not observe." Sherlock replied. "They never landed on our roof. They've been there the whole time." The pair rounded a corner.  
"What?" John exclaimed.  
"The new building has walls which extend beyond the roof. Far enough that tents can be put up without being visible from below." They swerved around a small market stall. "While debugging the bathroom I found a hidden doorway in the back of the shower cubicle, hidden by the shower screen. It lead up to the roof. They didn't see me but they must have caught me re-emerging on the bugs in the bathroom. I blocked the doorway so they couldn't get down and got everyone out." John frowned.  
"If you blocked the doorway and they couldn't get down, how the hell are they chasing us?" John asked. Sherlock grinned.  
"That's the interesting part."

Before Sherlock could explain what he meant by that, John spotted Martha at one of the stalls. He and Sherlock ran over to her.  
"Martha. Where's Jenny?" John asked. The female soldier leapt out of her skin at the sudden intrusion then pointed across the court yard.  
"Over there. Why?" She replied, casually looking around though John could tell that she was scanning the area for assailants.  
"We need to get out of here. Now. Get Jenny and move to the clearing but don't let anyone follow you." John ordered. The woman nodded and crossed the street to grab her partner, walking as she would normally, as though nothing were wrong. The captain had to admire the skill she had with acting, even he couldn't tell that she had just been given an order to evacuate immediately.  
"Two down, four to go." John hummed.  
"Make that two." Sherlock replied, brandishing the flip phone. It beeped again. "And none." John grinned.  
"Let's get out of here."


	11. Chapter 10

**AN- **Gosh, this is such a short chapter! To make up for that (and the horrendously long wait) you'll be getting two chapters posted today. Yay!

B  
x

* * *

"All twelve of them found each other?" Sherlock hummed sceptically. "That was a stroke of luck." John raised an eyebrow.  
"You don't believe in luck." He replied. The detective grimaced.  
"I don't." John felt the chill run down his spine.  
"What are you trying to tell me?" He asked. A tendon in the detective's jaw jumped.  
"I don't know." He admitted. "And I don't like not knowing."

The group met up in the courtyard and moved off to an alleyway.  
"If they're blocking the entrance then it won't be long before they move in." Sherlock stated. "Once they think we have nowhere to go, they will trap us." John nodded.  
"But there is more than one way to leave this village." He answered. "How many of them do you think they know?"  
"If they're from the army they'll know everything we did from the last time. "Sherlock replied. "So all of them." His phone buzzed, signalling a call. The detective fished out the flip phone and answered it. As the person talked, too quiet for anyone else to hear, Sherlock's face grew stormier. When he finally closed the phone, John was barely hiding his worry.  
"The clearing is compromised." Sherlock stated. "No one has been taken, but the clearing is swarming. The rest of the team are hiding out in the wasteland. Private Stanley is acting command."

John frowned, there had to be a way to get out without getting caught. They needed to break out of the village and rendezvous with the others somewhere in the wasteland, they could find out where later. An idea thrust itself to the frontal lobes of the doctors mind and his grinned.  
"Who's up for a game of hide and seek?"


	12. Chapter 11

**AN- **This is the second chapter uploaded today, so make sure you read chapter 10 first.

B  
x

* * *

"This has to be the most stupid plan you have ever come up with." Sherlock grumbled from his hiding place in an abandoned building on a street close to the courtyard. By his calculations, their attackers would be entering the village at any moment, at which point they would be instantly found and shot or dragged into custody. The group in the wasteland would be tracked down within the next three hours and would meet the same faint.  
"I don't see you coming up with anything better." John snapped back. "And besides, this isn't the actual plan." Sherlock blinked slowly.  
"What?" He asked politely, though the niceness was only a front to get answers. John smiled at him.  
"Everyone else is going to hide and everyone knows where everyone else is hiding, right?" He asked. Sherlock nodded. "Which means that the army also knows where everyone else is supposed to be hiding. We just won't be where we said we would." Realisation hit the detective like a freight train and his lips turned into a grin.  
"Captain." He purred. "That is positively devious."

The captain and his friend crept out from their hiding place and moved up to the rooftops, out of the way of the rest of the squad. John was fairly certain that they had a mole in their midst, someone giving the army information on everything. He didn't have any solid proof but John knew that there was no way that all twelve would have found each other in such a small amount of time. They could have used the phones but then Sherlock would have known. Something that Sherlock didn't tell the rest of the group was that he had added a service to his own phone which would alert him any time any of the other phones were in use, which phone it was and who it was ringing. He had let John know when they were alone. At the time, John hadn't been impressed but now he was happy that they had this advantage, little though it was.

Army soldiers had begun to appear in the courtyard now, not enough to be suspicious but more than usual. They were making a beeline to the house which John had told the others he and Sherlock would be hiding in.  
"Interesting." Sherlock muttered, turning to John. "Do you have any remaining doubts?" The captain shook his head.  
"Not anymore." He replied, the disappointment evident in his voice. The main reason that John had tried to keep optimistic that there wasn't an informant was that he didn't want to believe that anyone in his squad would turn against the rest of them.  
"Good," Sherlock answered. "No we can find out who it is."

John waited for the soldiers return out from the building where they should have been hiding. One soldier was holding a radio and, though they couldn't hear what was being said through the speaker, they could hear the soldier himself easily enough.  
"-not present. We are going to apprehend our source now. Requesting backup to secure the area. Repeat, the Captain is still at large." The soldiers disintegrated into the crowd. John sat back, frowning.  
"What do they want me for?" He asked.  
"You're the leader, John." Sherlock reminded him.  
"No, usually they'd take anyone they could find." John replied. "That's the thing with hostages on battlefields; it doesn't matter who they are, all that matters is that you've got them. They know that I would rescue anyone on my team so the easiest way to get me would be to take one of them. So why are they coming for me?"


	13. Chapter 12

John waited another few minutes before making his way back to street level, Sherlock in tow, escaping the building via a blown out window at the back. They watched the soldiers search the market stalls before sneaking off down the backs of the houses, alert for any sign of the army. John had decided that he was going to steer clear of the hiding places of his squad too, they didn't know who the informant was and until they found out, they couldn't trust anybody.

The soldiers had said that they were going to go and pick up the informant. In an ideal world, John would have just followed them to wherever that person was and be done with the whole mess. But. This was not an 'ideal world', there was no way of knowing where the army soldiers were hiding and if he got caught now then their little dance around the soldiers would have been for nothing. No, he would have to find out who the mole was some other way. What he needed to do right now was get out of the village and get to the group in the wastelands, as none of them could be the mole.

Sherlock peered out from around the building closest to the wire fence which surrounded the village. It had original been put up into keep out wild animals but, since war broke out, was now used to keep people out too. John pulled out some wire cutters. They were going to have to be quick, the army was almost certainly patrolling the fence to make sure no one tried to do exactly what he and Sherlock were doing. Escaping via a way which was not an exit.  
"Hurry up." Sherlock hissed lowly. John glared at him.  
"You do have your own cutters, you can help too." He snapped back, keeping his voice down. Sherlock scoffed but didn't raise a hand to help. John decided that he would get his own back at some point, but not now. He cut the last section of wire and ducked through, holding it open for his flatmate.

* * *

Now out of the village, John and Sherlock set to running as far as they could without being spotted.  
"Can the rest of the phones be set up to find out if the other phones are being used?" John panted as they ran. Sherlock shook his head.  
"Ours has a different system, I wired it differently specifically so it would be able to track usage of the others, the other phones would need to be completely rewired and the codes would need to be inputted with the codes from the other phones, which only I know." He answered. Hard ground replaced with sand, halting their progress. John nodded, his legs burning with the effort of moving.  
"Call Nic."


	14. Chapter 13

Private Nye and Private Stanley stayed sat on the brow of the sand dune they had chosen to hide behind. It didn't sound like the best of ideas, but it was the only place they could see anybody approaching. The hot sun beat down on the group.  
"Surely they should be back by now." Nicolas murmured, scanning the barren wasteland. Jack shrugged.  
"We have no idea what is happening." He replied. "They could have been caught for all we know."  
"What's going on anyway, why is our own army against us?" Nic huffed. "I mean, they were firing at us. Live rounds."  
"I don't know." Jack replied, not at all happy about that fact. "But it's got to have something to do with Holmes." Nic hummed in agreement, almost every dilemma they had faced while out in Afghanistan had been due to Sherlock Holmes. Sure, it made everything that little bit more exciting, but it also made everything that bit more dangerous.

Their quiet conversation was broken by a buzzing in Jack Nye's pocket. He pulled out the phone and flipped it open to answer it.  
"Yes?" He asked. Nic raised an eyebrow, inwardly relieved that they had contact after three hours of silence. Jack hummed in reply to something the person had said.  
"Yeh, we're still in the wasteland, Sir. But I don't know how long we can stay here, it's too hot. We're beginning to feel the heat stroke now." He paused, listening, then nodded though the person couldn't see him. "Yes Sir." He closed the phone with a click.  
"The Captain wants us to go to the next village, three point two miles due North." Jack explained. Private Stanley frowned.  
"How the hell do they know where we are?" He asked. "We've never been here before." Jack shrugged before pulling himself off of the sand and going down to the others to explain the change in plans.

* * *

Across the desert, John and Sherlock were busy trekking, but not in the direction of the next village.  
"Nic will keep the wasteland group safe. We can't trust any of the soldiers in the village right now, any of them could be the informant. In fact, there could be more than one." John hummed lowly, they'd slowed their pace considerably since the village had become nothing more than a hazy silhouette in the background. "That leaves us, so we are going to find out just what the hell is going on here." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
"We're going back to the base." He mused. "The long way round." John nodded.  
"Exactly. I expect all of the soldiers went after us, because we bolted in all different directions, so this is our best chance of sneaking up on to the roof."

* * *

Jenny squirmed, trying to relieve the pressure on her elbows. Martha was crouched behind her, blocking the only exit from under the house. They hadn't heard from the Captain in about three hours, which was far too long to be trapped with next to no space to move, but they had seen the army soldiers, who were getting more irate with each passing patrol. The two female soldiers had originally been hiding in the house itself, as they had told John they would be, but when they got there, something didn't feel right. Not wanting to be in the house, but knowing they should stay at that location, Private McMillian had decided that the best option was to crawl under the house, that way they could see if John, or anyone else, came.

"What's taking them?" Martha questioned irritably. Jenny would have shrugged if she had the space, before she could answer back verbally, another patrol of officers appeared, this time storming into the house. The two women shrank back away from the only exit. There was nowhere to hide, if anyone looked down to the hole in the foundations, they would see them.  
"-the female soldiers aren't here, Sir."  
"You're sure."  
"Yes Sir." Whoever had been speaking relayed the information over a radio. Jenny and Martha stayed completely still with bated breath until the soldiers were long gone.  
"We have to get out of here." Jenny whispered, "Orders be damned."


	15. Chapter 14

**AN- **Thanks to sneakysnakes for pointing out the spelling mistake in the last chapter. It's been corrected now. If anyone sees anymore, don't hesitate to let me know!

* * *

The base towered eerily over the Captain and his best friend, oddly silent. They crept inside, not entirely certain that the building was deserted.  
"Show the way to the secret door then." John whispered, gesturing for Sherlock to move ahead of him. The detective nodded and took the lead. Inside the base, everything looked untouched from how it had been left when they ran. The army hadn't had time to come back at rifle through the stuff yet, John could tell that Sherlock was itching to pick up some of his things, well he'd never liked people rifling through his possessions.

At the back of the shower, Sherlock removed his hastily thought up barricade and prised the door open. With one look back to John, he entered the dark stairwell and began the ascent up to the roof. John looked suspiciously around the bathroom, not able to shake the feeling that he was being watched. The doctor eventually put the feeling down to knowing that the base had been bugged and they hadn't removed them all before escaping. With one last glance around him, John followed his flatmate up to the roof.

* * *

Private Harriet glanced back at her partner, worry coating her expression. They had crawled out from under the house but now they had no idea where to go, all exits were being patrolled. Jenny licked her lips nervously.  
"We've got to get out of here." She said, glancing at the main entrance to the village which had two men in uniform on guard. They had been hoping to see a guard change or something that they could use to their advantage but after an hour there was no change.  
"How? We may be wearing the same uniform but they'll know who we are." Martha replied. The dark haired woman pondered this for a second then grinned.  
"What about if we weren't wearing army uniform?"

* * *

In the next village over, Private Stanley and the rest of his team slouched in a relatively cold building, all but pressing against the walls to try and cool down.  
"I thought you said the Cap would meet us here." Jack huffed, pressing his cheek to the brick. Nic blinked.  
"Actually, I don't think I did." He replied, only now thinking about the conversation. "And they certainly didn't tell me they would meet up with us." Jack groaned.  
"Great. So how long are we going to be here then?" He asked. "Not that I'm complaining about being out of the heat but I get the feeling that we're being left out of something exciting."

* * *

John blinked. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but it certainly wasn't this. High tech gear littered the floor, having been thrown about in the army's haste to chase after his squad. Several screens were set up, each containing different views of the base and surrounding area. From each screen a pair of headphones were jumbled in a heap. Sniper rifles lined the wall on the side nearing the village. Boxes which would have contained weapons were empty. John brought a hand to his head, gripping his hair.  
"How did we not notice them?" He asked. Sherlock shrugged, tiptoeing through the equipment so as to not leave a trace of his presence.  
"They were trained for this." He hummed, scanning the monitors before stopping in front of one in particular.  
"John." The captain knew that tone of voice, nothing good ever came of it. Still, the blond man answered. Sherlock turned to him. "We may have a problem."


End file.
